He heard them fumbling about the cuddy, and he knew that Matt could not find the treasure. But, if the boat was to stop at the town, it was time to prepare for the landing; and, if she was not to stop, it was time to look out for the bridge, for the mast seemed to be too tall to pass under it. If no one on board had any money, it was no use to land to obtain something to eat. Wade regarded the money in his pocket as held in trust, and he determined to be hungry for some time before he spent any of it for provisions. Wade run the boat close to the bridge, and found that the mast would go under it; but he was not quite willing to leave the village till the question of food had been settled. He was confident the runaways intended to go to New York in the boat, and he believed they had made some arrangements to feed themselves on the way. Putting the boat about, he headed her up the river again. Lon and Matt were so busy in the cuddy, that they gave no heed to the boat, and continued their search for the lost treasure. Of course they did not find it; and, when they gave up in despair, they had an earnest conversation, but Wade could not hear a word of it. They did not mean he should hear it, for it related to him. The conference continued for a long time; and, finding that it was not likely soon to be ended, Wade lowered the jib, and made a landing in the upper part of the village. As soon as the boat was secured to the shore, Lon came out of the cuddy, followed by Matt. Both of them looked as though something had happened. “Well, what are you going to do here, Wade?” asked Lon in a sullen tone. “If you fellows are going to New York in this boat, this is the place for you to take in provisions for the cruise,” said Wade good-naturedly. “We are not going to New York in this boat,” replied Lon sourly; and the loss of the treasure had changed the whole face of nature to him. “Well, here we are; and, whatever you are going to do, now is the time to begin it,” added Wade, who stood in the standing-room, putting the stops on the mainsail. “I think so myself,” replied Lon, suddenly springing upon the skipper, and throwing his arms around his neck, trying to get him on the floor.